Shades of Love
by ToastWeaselofDOOM
Summary: Fiveshot. Rated M for implied sexual/sensitive content in later chapters. Historical content. Mild changing of POVs. - - A look into the marriage and ensuing friendship of Roderich "Austria" Edelstein and Elizabeta "Hungary" Héderváry. Austria/Hungary.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Shades of Love

**Fandom: **Hetalia: Axis Powers

**Characters:** Elizabeta Héderváry (Hungary), Roderich Edelstein (Austria), various mentions of other characters

**Pairings:** AustriaxHungary

**Warning:** Rated M for heavily implied sexual content in later chapters (Chapter 4). Toeing the line. Not beta'd. Use of the German/Hungarian language (with translations at the bottom of the page). Use of human names. Historical content (explained at the bottom with the translations). Five-shot.

**Dedication: **Many thanks to _LePetitPappillon_ to helping me out with this. :3 (She's also an amazing writer and a horribly bad influence. 8D;;)

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia, nor do I own any of the songs mentioned in this fanfiction. I am writing this purely for my own enjoyment (the enjoyment of others may very).

**A/N: **I swear to god, more time was spent worrying on whether Austria wore a cravat or jabot/ascot tie than actually writing this chapter. According to the Hetalia wikia, he wears a jabot (aka ascot tie), but an ascot tie is technically a cravat. Darn it, Austria, stop being confusing! I ended up settling with jabot after doing a bunch of research/comparing pictures, etc….. Nnngh. So three hours of worrying about detail later and what do we get? The same result that we started with.

Story of my freakin' life.

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**Chapter 1 (of Five)  
**

It had been several years since Hungary had last seen Austria. When she entered the cabinet room, there he sat next to his boss. His chocolate bangs were slightly longer than they were since the last time she saw him and his navy-blue uniform was as pristine as ever. His lace jabot was tied expertly; a clean knot sent fabric cascading onto his chest. Amethyst eyes met her emerald ones and he hastily stood.

"Good morning, Miss Elizabeta. It's been a while."

"Good morning, Roderich." She sat at the seat proffered by her own boss and he returned to his own seat. Immediately their bosses launched into conversation about the proposed pact to support each other in war. Hungary's boss had been the one to suggest the idea and it seemed that Roderich and Elizabeta had little input into the outcome of this proposition. They were merely there for the formality of it all.

As such, Elizabeta was paying little attention to the meeting. Instead she was dreaming of returning home, changing out of her uniform and into something less restrictive then visiting the forests of her homeland. When Hungary came out of her daydream, she found herself gazing in the direction of her fellow country. Austria was listening to the meeting with great intensity, fingering his chin with a contemplative air.

He really was very attractive, Elizabeta reasoned to herself. She remembered when they'd both been under the control of the Holy Roman Empire and how ridiculous he'd looked with his hair slicked back. Now that he had forgone the hairstyle of his childhood and allowed his natural cowlick to kick dark brown hair over amethyst eyes, Austria had taken on a rather handsome air.

He looked up and caught her eyes on him. Hungary quickly diverted her attention to the table, pretending to be fascinated by the swirling grain of the wood. She could have sworn she heard him chuckle softly.

The meeting dragged on for several more hours until the two countries were dismissed. They walked in a semi-awkward silence down long mansion halls, their steps in perfect synch with each other. Finally, the silence was broken.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Austria asked quietly.

"It has," was Elizabeta's guarded reply.

"How have you been?" He asked.

"Fine."

But he knew she wasn't. He knew that under the sleeves of her uniform were bandages and half-healed wounds. He also knew that there were scars; many, many scars, all from previous battles—many of the battles he himself had participated in. The last time he had seen her, properly seen her, had been many years ago. She had been forced to watch the execution of her Prime Minister and army leaders. When Roderich had turned his back to leave, tears had been streaking down her cheeks.

". . . Elizabeta." He said it with such tenderness, such emotion that it made her pause. He took her hand and gently brought it to his lips. "I'm incredibly sorry."

She stared at him, shock evident in her emerald eyes. His gloved hand ghosted patterns on her fingers, the leather soft against her skin.

"It. . ." She shook her head. "I know it wasn't your fault. . . Countries cannot control what their bosses decide. We can only follow orders."

Austria closed his eyes in agreement and released his grip on her hand. "Such as our orders now."

"Yes. . ." Hungary's voice was uneasy. The two walked on in silence. When they reached the front of the mansion, Roderich helped his fellow country into her carriage.

"I will undoubtedly see you again see, Miss Elizabeta." he told her. "Quiet soon, in fact. But until then, I hope you have safe travels back to your home land."

Hungary nodded and the door to the carriage was shut. Roderich watched as the horses pulled it away from his house and only left to return inside when he could no longer see it on the horizon.

* * *

When the messenger came to tell Roderich he was to be wed in a month's time, he was not surprised. He knew it had been coming. Since Austria and Hungary were being combined, it was only fitting that their representatives would be wed as a result. All he asked for was the precise date of the occasion.

"The eight of June, sir."

He nodded. "Thank you. You may go." The doors to his music room closed, and Roderich returned his attention to keys of his beloved piano once more.

* * *

Elizabeta Héderváry was known for her masculinity, but even she grew excited when she was told she would be married to Roderich. He was after all, in her opinion, very handsome. He was a wonderful man and even though she had abused him rather horribly when they were younger, he was still kind to her. He was gentle and quiet and would be a perfect husband. She couldn't ask for a better arrangement.

But there was a piece of her that was heartbroken. She would be loosing her independence, most of her land, her identity. Her people were already being Germanized; with the combination of Austria and Hungary, would she loose her identity for good? It was almost too much to bear.

"Miss Hungary?" The young messenger boy looked at her, worried, when she stifled a small sob.

Elizabetha waved him off. "I'm fine. Thank you for telling me. You can go."

"Yes, Miss." The boy turned and hurried from the room. Once he was gone, the female nation fell back on her bed, weighting the pros and cons of her arranged marriage. When she could think no more, Hungary simply curled up and went to sleep.

_**To be Continued...**_

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**Warning! History Content!**

-In July 1849 the Hungarian Parliament proclaimed and enacted the first laws of ethnic and minority rights in the world. Initially, the Hungarian forces defeated Austrian armies. To counter the successes of the Hungarian revolutionary army, Franz Joseph asked for help from the Czar Nicholas I, whose Russian armies invaded Hungary. The huge army of the Russian Empire and the Austrian forces proved too powerful for the Hungarian army, and General Artúr Görgey surrendered in August 1849.

Julius Jacob von Haynau, the leader of the Austrian army, then became governor of Hungary for a few months, ordered the execution of the 13 Martyrs of Arad, leaders of the Hungarian army, as well as Prime Minister Batthyány in October 1849. Lajos Kossuth escaped into exile. Following the war of 1848 – 1849, the whole country was in "passive resistance". Archduke Albrecht, Duke of Teschen was appointed governor of the Kingdom of Hungary, and this time was remembered for Germanization pursued with the help of Czech officers.

* * *

**A/N:** I dunno when I'll get the second chapter out. It's a wedding, and I'm rubbish at writing weddings... but I like weddings. *sigh* So I'll get there eventually.

Chapter 1 was obviously the intro/Austria and Hungary learning of their arranged marriage (based on the merging of Austria and Hungary in 1867. June 8th, the day of Austria and Hungary's wedding day, corresponds with the date of the Austro-Hungarian Compromise). Chapter 2 will be the actual wedding and wedding night. Chapter 3 will be the morning directly after the wedding. Chapter 4 will most probably be very, _very_ long and consist of "little moments" throughout Austria and Hungary's marriage (This is where small time sexytimes happens). Chapter 5 will consist of Austria and Hungary's divorce and an epilogue.

Chapter 3 is finished, as is most of Chapter 4... still need a couple more things. If anyone feels like contributing an idea for me to write and add to these "little moments", feel free to prompt me in a comment or personal message! As I've stated before I haven't begun on Chapter 2. *sigh* I know what I want to happen and I have it all planned out-I just need to write it. Toasty will get there. Promise.

Hope to see you next chapter!

~Toasty

P.S.: I'm also terribly sorry for my incessantly long Author's Notes!


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: **Shades of Love

**Fandom:** Hetalia: Axis Powers

**Warnings for Chapter 2:** Not beta'd. Mild changing of tense. Use of human names. Historical content (explained at the bottom). Five-shot.

**A/N: **Chapter 2. Reception/Wedding Night moved into Chapter 3 because this chapter was effing long. Yeah.

Written all in one sitting. Dear God. Never doing that again. I've never been to a wedding/been part of a wedding, so you'll have to excuse me if anything in this in incorrect. AND THIS PRIEST LIKES TO TALK. I'm sorry for all of you who've had to deal with that kinda crap before. But there are so important bits in there will all of his blabbering, so please read through that when you get there!

Enjoy Chapter 2 of Shades of Love (and yes, this has a name now! Rejoice!)!

**P.S.** I'm fully aware I change tense. Deal. See warning above.

**

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Chapter 2 (of Five)  
**

The day of her wedding comes far sooner than Elizabeta cares for. She has not been included in the hectic planning that comes with a wedding, and for that she is grateful. The only thing she was needed to do was to stand still while being measured for her wedding dress.

And what a dress it was. It was white, snow white, with embroidered flowers run along the hem and up the side. The corset was beaded in the same design of the flowers and sparkled in the light. When the dress was test fitted, the nation was amazed at the way the dress hugged her curves perfectly and flares at her waist. She was used to wearing military uniforms and the wavy clothes of her homeland. But this . . . its way more beautiful then should be allowed. She almost didn't want to wear it.

Almost.

When Hungary woke on that fateful day, all she wanted to do was roll over and go back to sleep. But she knew she couldn't. The wedding was set for the early afternoon and getting ready, even with help, would take several hours. Reluctantly the nation removed herself from the warm quilt on her bed and trudge to the bath. She ran an almost scalding bath and removed her nightdress before sliding into the water.

She spent almost an hour soaking, her mind on the day ahead. She was getting married. She was getting married to Roderich Edelstein. The best man a woman could ask for. Except she wasn't any woman and this wasn't any marriage. This was a war alliance at best. She had known Austria since they were children, and he was a good friend when she wasn't sending him scrambling for cover, or he wasn't standing over her with a saber to her throat.

Elizabeta groaned and sank under the water, her knees rising up as she submerged herself completely. She needed to stop thinking about this negatively. She really did. She resurfaced and jumped when there was a knock at the door to her washroom.

"Miss Héderváry?" a tentative voice called. "Your carriage is here to take you to the mansion of Lord Edelstein."

Hungary barely managed to surprise a groan of disappointment. "I'll be out in a minute! Need to get dressed."

"Of course, ma'am." Elizabeta waited until the receding were replaced by the sound of the slamming of her front door. The female nation rather unwillingly removed herself from the bath and dried herself off. She slipped on underclothes and her usual military uniform, tied her boots and tucked the customary flower behind her ear.

She stepped smartly from her cottage and took one last fond look at it before letting the footman help her into the carriage. It was a relatively long ride to the mansion Austria called home, about two or three hours, and Hungary found herself being lulled to sleep by the rocking of the carriage and the sound of horse hoofs against compact dirt road.

.

.

.

.

"Miss Héderváry?" came a tentative voice. "We've arrived, ma'am." Hungary slowly opened an emerald orb and squinted at the bright sunlight that she was met with. The anxious face of the young footman was peering at her from outside the door of the carriage.

"Ma'am?" he asked.

Elizabeta shook her head. "It's nothing. Thank you for waking me."

The footman smiled hesitantly and helped her out of the carriage. "Just doing my job, ma'am. I hope your upcoming marriage is a successful one."

Hungary stared at him and the footman gulped and got flustered. "I mean—that is—I overstepped—"

"No, it's alright." Elizabeta smiled at him, cutting off his stuttered apologies. "Thank you."

"Ah—yes, ma'am. Have a good day, ma'am."

"You, too."

A maid was waiting to show Hungary into the mansion and to the room where she would be transformed from nomadic nation to bride. "The hairdressers and makeup artists will be will you shortly." The maid hurried from the room, leaving Elizabeta alone with her thoughts.

But not for long. There was a knock on the door; three sharp, precise raps. "Come in?" The door swung opened and Austria stepped over the threshold. He closed the door behind him, it shutting with the faintest 'click.'

"R-Roderich!"

"A pleasure to see you as always, Miss Elizabeta." As proper as ever.

Hungary frowned slightly and stood. "I would think you of all people would know it's considered bad luck to see the bride before the wedding."

Austria raised a thin eyebrow and the female nation's heart rate increased, though she'd never admit it. "I don't think the rule applies when the bride in question is not even in her wedding dress."

A smile came to Hungary's lips. "Touché."

Her fiancé frowned slightly. "Have you been speaking with the inglorious Frenchman, Miss Elizabeta?"

"I happen to like Francis."

The two shared a momentary battle of wills. Austria gave in rather quickly with a sigh. "Very well, do as you like. But I did not come here to chit chat."

Hungary crossed her arms. "What did you come here to do?"

Roderich looked slightly uneasy. "Well . . . I know you do not approve of this marriage. And while I do not mind being wed to you, I am fairly certain you wish to have no part of it. You've always been an independent woman."

'_Damn straight,' _Hungary growled inwardly.

"Therefore, I have come to ask for your permission so I do not feel guilty about having to kiss you this afternoon."

Elizabeta was pretty sure she had heard something wrong. "Excuse me?" Surely Austria was not that much of a gentleman.

"You are uneasy about the marriage so I am asking for your permission so I may kiss you without hesitation or fear of being manhandled this afternoon."

Hungary blinked. "One more time?"

Roderich sighed. "May I kiss you this afternoon when it is proclaimed I must do so?"

Elizabeta's head reeled slightly. He was asking her about something so simple? He shouldn't even have to, she was his—wait, where did that thought come from? She shook her head to clear it of that ridiculous notion.

"Is that a no? I will probably be able to dupe the kiss if you so prefe—"

"Roderich, shut up for a second," Hungary snapped. Austria fell silent immediately. "Let me get this straight. You're asking me if it's okay to kiss me?"

Austria nodded. "Yes."

Elizabeta sighed. "Roderich, I trust you to make the right decision. Kiss me if you wish."

The man in front of her looked distressed. "Miss Elizabeta—"

"Yes, you can kiss me!" she shouted. She flushed immediately afterwards. That had come out louder than intended.

Austria was red as well. "A-Ah, well then. Yes, alright. Very well. Then I will take my leave and let you get dressed. I will see you on the alter, Hungary." He bowed and hurried to leave the room.

"Roderich!"

Austria stopped with his hand on the doorknob. He turned and looked at her with confused amethyst orbs. "Miss Elizabata?"

"You can call me Eliza," Hungary told him gently. "If we're to be married, that 'Miss Elizabeta' rubbish will be to formal, right?"

Roderich nodded absent. "Y-Yes. Eliza it is." He smiled a little then left the room. His presence was immediately replaced by four woman who all started ordering Elizabeta around at once. Hungary sighed and did what they told her to the best of her ability.

* * *

Austria examined himself in the mirror and was fairly certain that he preferred his navy blue military coat. As of now he was wearing the outfit that had been tailored for his wedding to Elizabeta; a pure white suit, tie and waist coat, a lacey jabot, and a navy blue brooch in which was intricately carved the Austrian eagle. Even his gloves where white. The only color in the outfit was the brooch and the single red rose pinned to his buttonhole.

"As you going to stare at yourself in the mirror all day?" came a voice from behind him. Roderich didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Vash Swingli stood behind him, also in a suit and tie, and looking decidedly irritated—for Vash, that was normal.

"Ah, no. I apologize." Austria turned around and observed his fellow country. He was in a black suit and tie, with a white dress shirt and black gloves. His white beret was perched on top of his blonde hair.

"I still can't understand why you want me to be your best man."

Roderich paused for a moment. "I believe my boss and I came to the agreement that out of all my male acquaintances, you were the least likely to try to sabotage the wedding by ruining the ceremony and or accidently-on-purpose losing the wedding ring. You have been, are and forever will be neutral."

Switzerland snorted. "Too right. I try not to get involved in the affairs of you psychos."

Austria chuckled softly and shook his head. "Yes, I've noticed. Now I believe it is time for us to be in the ballroom being used for the wedding. You can follow me." Roderich swept from the room and did not bother to check is his fellow nation was following him or not.

When they arrived an orderly immediately ran up to them. "Ah, Lord Edelstein, I was just about to send for you! The audience is ready so you and Mister Swingli can get in your positions. I've sent a maid up for Miss Héderváry so she'll be arriving downstairs any moment now."

Roderich nodded. "Thank you. I'll see you in a moment, Vash."

Switzerland shrugged. "Sure." Roderich left Switzerland with the bridesmaid and groomsmen in the entrance hall and entered the ballroom through a side entrance. He found the priest already at the alter and stood next to him. They shared an exchange of glances and the priest smiled encouragingly. After several moments the pianist began to play and the hum of the crowd died instantly.

After a minute or so of piano music, the groomsmen entered, escorting the bridesmaid. Roderich chose to ignore that Feliks was in a dress and was playing the part of a bridesmaid while being escorted by Toris or that Eduard was escorting Lichtenstein. Vash was escorting Natalia, Elizabeta's Maid of Honor. When they had taken their positions at the alter, the flower girl and ring bearer entered the room.

Peter Kirkland was dressed in an immaculate suit and tie. He was carrying the ring pillow like a little lord as France's young colony Seychelles tossed rose petals every which way behind him. When they, too, stood in line beside Vash and Belarus respectably, the doors opened and Roderich turned to watch his bride be escorted down the isle.

He had never seen anything more beautiful. Elizabeta's hair was in ringlets; two framed her face while the others were pulled back into a bun which then cascaded into a shower of coils onto her back. He face was touched with the slightest amount of makeup and diamonds glittered at her neck, ears, and in her hair. Her dress was beautiful, too; it hugged her just right and was modestly cut but low enough for a view of her bosom. Her gloved hand clutched a bouquet of flowers which was handed off to Belarus as Elizabeta and her boss arrived at the alter.

The priest stepped forward, cleared his throat, and spoke. "Dearly Beloved, we are gathered together here in the sign of God – and in the face of this company – to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men; and therefore – is not by any – to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly – but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly. Into this holy estate these two persons present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

There was silence. The Priest continued.

"Marriage is the union of husband and wife in heart, body and mind. It is intended for their mutual joy – and for the help and comfort given on another in prosperity and adversity. But more importantly – it is a means through which a stable and loving environment may be attained.

"Through marriage, Lord Roderich Edelstein and Miss Elizabeta Héderváry make a commitment together to face their disappointments – embrace their dreams – realize their hopes – and accept each other's failures. Lord Edelstein and Miss Héderváry will promise one another to aspire to these ideals throughout their lives together – through mutual understanding – openness – and sensitivity to each other." The priest paused for a breath and then continued. Austria wasn't paying much attention; he was too focused on his bride.

"We are here today – before God – because marriage is one of His most sacred wishes – to witness the joining in marriage of Lord Roderich Edelstein and Miss Elizabeta Héderváry. This occasion marks the celebration of love and commitment with which this man and this woman begin their life together. And now – through me – He joins you together in one of the holiest bonds." The priest looked down at Hungary's boss.

"Who gives this woman in marriage to this man?"

"I do," Elizabeta's boss replied. Roderich was sure he felt his heart skip of beat or three.

The priest drew breath once again and plunged into speech once again. Austria noticed a stifled yawn from the back of the room and identified the perpetrator as Prussia; there was a reason he was not here on this alter as his best man.

"This relationship stands for love, loyalty, honesty and trust, but most of all for friendship." The priest continued. "Before they knew love, they were friends, and it was from this seed of friendship that is their destiny. Do not think that you can direct the course of love – for love, if it finds you worthy, shall direct you."

Hungary and Roderich shared a glance at that. They both knew exactly what the other was thinking.

"Will the bride please join the groom at the alter for the exchanging of vows?"

Elizabeta unhooked her hand from her boss' and joined Roderich in standing before the priest. They shared another look as the minister began the vows.

"Do you, Roderich Edelstein, take Elizabeta Héderváry to be your wife in the holy estate of matrimony?"

"I do."

" Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon her your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?"

Austria nodded and looked directly into Elizabeta's eyes as he said, "I will." There was a flicker of something in her emerald orbs; was it sadness? Happiness? He couldn't tell.

The priest turned to Elizabeta. "Do you, Elizabeta Héderváry take Roderich Edelstein to be your husband in the holy estate of matrimony?"

There was a hesitation in Hungary's voice before she managed to say, "I do."

"Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your heart's deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?"

Elizaveta nodded. "I. . . I will."

The priest turned to Vash and motioned for the rings. The Swiss departed his place in line and handed the minister the small box containing the gold bands that would signify the fusion of two great nations. The priest took the box and turned to Roderich.

"Lord Edelstein, in placing this ring on Lady Héderváry's finger, repeat after me. . ."

Austria echo dutifully as he slid the ring onto Elizabeta's finger before saying in his soft tones, "This ring I give to you as a token of my love and devotion to you. I pledge to you all that I am and all that I will ever be as your husband. With this ring, I gladly marry you and join my life to yours." He smiled slightly as Hungary's flush was visible even under her makeup.

The priest gave Elizabeta little time to compose herself before saying, "Lady Héderváry, in placing this ring on Lord Edelstein's finger, repeat after me. . ." Hungary parroted the minister as she inched the gold band up Roderich's finger then spoke the phrase her boss had made her swore she'd speak upon the alter.

"With this ring, I thee wed, and with it, I bestow upon thee all the treasures of my mind, heart, hands, and body." Austria's brows met in a frown and the look in his ameythst eyes clearly stated that they would talk later, in private.

The priest continued as if the exchange between the two being wed had never occurred. "May you always share with each other the gifts of love – be one in heart and in mind – may you always create a home together that puts in your hearts – love – generosity and kindness.

"In as much as Lord Edelstein and Lady Héderváry have consented together in marriage before this company of friends and family and have pledged their faith – and declared their unity by giving and receiving a ring – are now joined. You have pronounced yourselves husband and wife but remember to always be each other's best friend.

"And so, by the power vested in me by the Church, the Government of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and of the Almighty God, I now pronounce you man and wife.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Austria looked Hungary in the eye as he lifted the veil slowly. His amethyst eyes said, 'Are you sure you want me to do this?'

Emerald eyes responded fiercely, 'Just do it.'

So Roderich captured her lips in hers.

The world stopped turning for just a moment. For both of them.

* * *

**Warning! ** **History Content!**

_Note 1:_ As far as I know, Switzerland had nothing to do with the Austro-Hungarian compromise. I simply put Vash as the best man because Austria stated, he's neutral, and I sure as hell knew that if I put Prussia or Russia as the best man, the world might implode and the wedding most definitely would come to a grinding halt. Then chaos would reign as Belarus attacked Russia and Hungary killed Prussia with a frying pan…. then because of all of this, Austria would get a headache and leave… so I decided it was best for all concerned to make the neutral party the best man so as to avoid all that lovely drama.

_**(Although if anyone wants to write that as an alternate ending, I give them full permission too. I'd love to read it! =3)**_

_Note 2: _ALSO. I KNOW SEALAND TECHNICALLY DOESN'T EXIST AT THIS TIME, because Sealand was established in 1943 during WWII, while this is taking place in 1867, but for once I'm going to say **FUCK HISTORY**. There needed to be a ring bearer and I wasn't making it one of the Baltics, Finland, or America ('cause he'd be too old and kinda still nutzo from the Civil War). SO DEAL WITH THE FACT IT'S SEALAND AND IMAGINE HIM AT LIKE, AGE 5 IN A SUIT BEING SMALL, ADORABLE, AND TRYING TO APPEAR IMPRESSIVE. KTHX.

(Sorry about that little outburst)

* * *

**A/N: **Chapter 3 will compromise of the reception, wedding night, and the morning directly after the wedding. Chapter 4 will be those little moments I promised and Chapter 5 will be the divorce/epilogue. I should have both Chapters 3 and 4 done relatively soon...ish. But knowing my posting schedule and how I put things off, this is a lie.

Thanks to everyone who has read and review so far. It's really made me happy. ^^ Next chapter will contain people getting drunk, everyone's favorite albino, a slightly skitzo America, England, piano playing, srs talk and so much more! Hope you tune in to read it!

~Toasty

**P.S.** I am still welcome promps for those "little moments" between Austria and Hungary (and maybe others?) in Chapter 4. If there's anything you want to see, feel free to prompt me!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Title: **Shades of Love

**Fandom:** Hetalia: Axis Powers

**Characters:** Hungary Héderváry (Hungary), Roderich Edelstein (Austria), Gilbert Beilschmidt (Prussia), Feliks Łukasiewicz (Poland), Ludwig (Germany), mentions of others

**Warnings for Chapter 2:** Not beta'd. Use of human names. Written accents (mostly German). Male/Male. Five-shot.

**A/N: **Chapter 3. Reception/Wedding Night. You do not know how hard it was to not write "her" as the pronoun for Poland. *facedesk* Also, writing Feliks and his Valley Girl accent makes me feel dirty. OTL

In the end THE RECEPTION WAS HARD TO WRITE AND SO WAS PRUSSIA. Dear God, Prussia was hard to write. Sorry if I mess him up too much, Prussia fans! D:

Once again, never been to a wedding or a wedding, so I can authorize my creative license! …Within reason, of course.

Enjoy Chapter 3!

* * *

**Shades of Love (Chapter 3 of 5)**

"_And so, by the power vested in me by the Church, the Government of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and of the Almighty God, I now pronounce you man and wife._

"_You may now kiss the bride."_

_Austria looked Hungary in the eye as he lifted the veil slowly. His amethyst eyes said, 'Are you sure you want me to do this?'_

_Emerald eyes responded fiercely, 'Just do it.'_

_So Roderich captured her lips in hers. _

_And the world stopped turning for just a moment. The world stopped turning for one amazing glorious moment. And the only ones who felt it stop were the newly married couple._

* * *

Hungary was pretty certain her brain had just momentarily stopped working. She had kissed both men and boys before, but kissing Austria was something new. He was neither sloppy nor inexperienced; he was refined in the way he kissed her, gentle in his approach and execution. He tasted like caramel and coffee and cake; all things Hungary knew he indulged in just as much as or more than his precious piano.

Elizabeta was dimly aware of the cheering behind them and the priest declaring them 'Lord and Lady Edelstein' as they parted, but she wasn't really paying attention other than the fact that _she had just kissed Roderich Edelstein_. Her inner woman was doing a combination of swooning and jumping with joy. It was more of a swooning as her new husband said something she didn't catch before taking her hand in his and pressed his lips to them, then led her from the ballroom past rows of clapping spectators.

* * *

He pulled away from Hungary, her taste still fresh on his tongue. When he looked at her, she had a dreamy look on her face. Austria took her hand. "Shall we go, Lady Eliza?" She moved her head in what could be considered a nod and her smiled slightly. He brought her satin-covered hand to his lips for a light kiss, then took her hand and escorted her through the rows of seats and into the hallway.

They were met by an orderly who took them to the courtyard where they would have their wedding photos taken. The photographer was a cheery, somewhat rotund man with a bald crown and handlebar mustache. He took several pictures of Elizabeta and Roderich alone, then many of them together. When he requested on of them kissing, Austria once again asked silent permission from his new wife. She closed her eyes and nodded. The nobleman pressed his lips to hers.

On this second kiss he once again noticed the sweetness that tinged her saliva. When they parted he bent and whispered in her ear, "Partaking in sweets before the ceremony, my dear?"

He felt her shudder lightly before she replied, "I had a few slivers of chocolate. How did you know?"

"I could taste it." Her slightly shocked expression was worth the swat to his arm.

"Could I get another?" The man asked hesitantly. "Just in case that one didn't take."

Hungary nodded. This time, Roderich was curious and prolonged the kiss to explore the secrets her mouth hid. He heard the camera shutter click and several seconds later broke off their contact. He could taste the tang of what he believed to be tea, Earl Gray if he was correct, and the rich flavor of cream. There was something else, an undercurrent of something he couldn't quite name. He guessed it to be some type of spice; which one, anyone's guess.

The rest of the wedding party was called in and many, many memories were captured on camera film. Afterwards, they were lead to the ballroom where the reception and dinner were to be held. Guests mingled and talked, but the crowd fell silent when Elizabeta and Roderich entered the room. Then there was a roar of applause and people approaching to wish the new couple a happy marriage or congratulations. There was one, however, who didn't join in the crowd. He was slouched against the wall, looking moody.

"I'll be back," she said, slipping from the crowd and approaching the man. He looked up at her, red eyes remorseful. "Hey, Gilbert. I've never seen you in a suit before."

"Only for you," he said, winking cheekily.

"You're lucky it's my wedding," Hungary told him, "or I'd hit you."

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Whatever. How's the priss treating you?"

"_Roderich_ is treating me perfectly fine," Elizabeta replied. "He's a gentleman."

Her fellow nation snorted. "Yeah, and a wuss. Aw, don't gimmie hat look. You were the one who hat ta come bail 'im out durin' the war."

"Have I mentioned I can't stand you?" Hungary asked.

"Yup." Prussia smirked as Hungary's eyes flashed dangerously. The German nation stood up straight and said, "I just came for da free food. I'll be leafin' after dat." He ambled off, probably in search of his younger brother, leaving Elizabeta fuming inwardly.

Her new husband had (politely) escaped from the crowd of well wishers and was at her side. "Was that Beilschmidt?" Hungary nodded and Roderich sighed. "My—our boss declined to inform me that he had RSVP'd. Should I have the guard's evict him?"

Elizabeta shook her head. "That would inconvenience Ludwig. He said he would be leaving soon, anyway."

Austria stared after the albino with barely concealed contempt. "I trust Ludwig to make sure he behaves, at the very least. However, if he causes a ruckus I _will _have him evicted."

"Do what you want," his wife replied just before her named was called at a very loud volume. Hungary turned to get a bear hug from Poland, who was still in his dress.

"Like, oh my gosh, girl!" Feliks squealed after releasing her. "Your dress is so pretty! C'mon, let's go girl talk! I'm sure it's okay if I borrow you for a bit, right, Roddy?"

Austria twitched at the nickname but assented. "Yes, you steal her away for a while."

"Like, sweet! Common, Eliza!" Feliks took Hungary's hand and pulled her outside and into the courtyard. They stopped once they reached the small white gazebo which was surprisingly empty despite the nice day and large crowd of wedding spectators. The two hiked up their dresses and climbed the steps into the pavilion, where they sat together.

"You're married! That's like, totally awesome! And to a cute guy, too! Bonus!" Hungary sometimes had a hard time remembering Poland was male. "If he doesn't treat you well, girl, totally gimme a call. I'll whip his ass for you! Not that, like, I don't think you can't hold your own or anything, but if you need a hand, I'll totally help you out!"

Elizabeta sighed. "I don't think he's going to give me any problem, Feliks. He's a good man."

"Bit of a pansy though," Poland said, swinging his high-heel clad feet. "You'll so top him tonight, if you know what I mean~?"

Hungary laughed nervously. "Yes, I suppose."

Feliks gave her a critical look. "Are you saying you're _not _looking forward to leaving this mess and having sex with a totally gorgeous man?" Her flush and embarrassed silence was all the answer the Polish man needed. "Like, why not? Hundreds of girls would jump to get in bed with him! Now you've got him on a silver platter and you should totally be like, taking advantage of it! Do you like, not like him or something? I mean, I know you don't like this merge very much or anything but really! He's gorgeous—for a guy. Toris is like, way cuter, but you know what I mean!"

Elizabeta sighed and leaned back on the gazebo bench. "It's not that I'm not attracted to him, because I am. He's very handsome. It's just . . ."

"Just?" Poland prompts. There's silence. "Just what, girl? You can totally tell me, you know that, right?"

Hungary sighs again. "It's just. . . I don't know him very well."

Feliks looks a bit confused. "Weren't you guys like, best friends or something a long time ago? Like, during Medieval times?"

The bride shook her head. "Not really. We fought mostly. . . and I kicked his ass every time."

Poland laughed. "Told you he was a pansy! So like, what you're saying is that you don't wanna have sex with him 'cause it'd be like, kinda awkward?"

"More or less," Elizabeta agreed miserably. "But it's customary and I want to be a good wife, however arranged our marriage may be."

Feliks sighed. "Girl, this is Austria we're talkin' about. He's so enamored with you I mean—damn. Have you seen the way he looks at you? He's like, so smitten. He's such a gentleman, too. I mean, he came and asked you if he could kiss you—don't give me that look, I've got contacts—so I'm sure if you like, ask him or something you guys don't have to do it. A lotta couple's don't do it the first night, and who's gonna know if you guys don't sex it up tonight, huh? That's right, no one."

Hungary sighed. "I suppose you're right."

"Girl, I know I'm right!" Poland smiled at her. "When you guys leave tonight, just tell him you don't wanna do it. He'll listen, promise."

The female nation smiled. "Alright. Thanks, Feliks."

"No problem, girl! Now, I'm sure Roddy's all worried about you so you should go back and show him I didn't like, take you and kill you or something. My boss saw me and like, flipped out, so I've gotta go change into a suit. Which is totally uncool."

Hungary giggled. "Why are you in a dress anyway? I thought Ukraine was going to be my bridesmaid."

"She was, but she and Russia like, didn't come. I dunno why. But they like, called me up all panicked and stuff and asked me and Liet to come and step in. Liet had a suit like the one's you guys were usin' so they did a bunch of last minute changes to Kat's dress while I was on the way over with Liet, got me in it and made me fab and tadah! Instant stand-in bridesmaid!"

Despite herself, Elizabeta found herself laughing. "Oh, Feliks. What would I do without you?"

"Be like, totally less awesome then you are but it's okay!" Poland smiled and stood. "Gotta go change! I'll see you at dinner, girl!" He hugged his friend before hiking up his skirt and heading across the courtyard with purpose in his stride. Hungary watched him go with a smile on her lips before standing herself and returning to the ballroom.

She found Roderich sitting at the long table designated for the wedding party, sipping a goblet of wine and talking to Ludwig, who was taking long draughts from a tankard of ale. She greeted Ludwig pleasantly as she sat beside her new husband.

The blonde nodded. "Guten Tag, Lady Edelstein."

"Elizabeta, please," Hungary replied, wincing at her new surname.

"Of course." The two men continued their conversation of Germany's economy and such until dinner was called. The meal was pleasant, as were the speeches that followed. Vash's speech was short as were Natalia and Ludwig's. The rest of the night passed without much incident until the couple was called to dance.

Roderich turned to his embarrassed-looking wife. "Elizabeta?"

Hungary set her visage in a determined-looking face. "Let's just do it and get it over with?"

Austria stood and offered her his hand, which she took. He led her out onto the dance floor and as they settled into position he asked quietly, "Do you not enjoy dancing?"

"Not particularly," she replied as the music started and they began to move. "I've never really had time for it. I was made to learn during the Renaissance when I was also forced to attend balls and the like."

Roderich nodded and spun her at the precise time. They proceeded to continue around the dance floor, moving with the music and keeping time perfectly. "You haven't lost your skill."

"Thank you and I could say the same thing to you."

Austria chuckled softly. "Well, I attended many dances during the Renaissance and in the times afterward. I have had little time to get rusty." He spun her again before bringing her close. The floor soon began to slowly fill with other couples, both nobility and countries alike. When the two countries finally left the floor to the safety of the table, the room was full of dancing persons.

"Oh, look at Berwald and Tino!" Hungary cooed, pointing at the two Nordic nations. They were dancing in the corner, Tino standing on Berwald's feet. "That is so sweet!"

"If you say so," Roderich allowed, taking a sip of his wine. The two sat at the table while their guests danced, both content with watching the twirling couples below them. They were only disturbed when a slightly intoxicated Prussia approached them.

"_What do you want?"_ Austria asked in clipped German, obviously irritated.

"Calm down, Specs," the nation replied in English. "I only vanted to ask if Eliza vould care to dance vith me? Jus' vonce."

Hungary replied before her husband could. "It's fine, Roderich. I will dance with Gilbert."

"Touch her inappropriately and I'll have your head!" Austria hissed as a smirking Gilbert led his wife to the dance floor.

"Vhadever." Prussia rolled his eyes as he took Elizabeta's hand. "I don'd knov hov you stand him."

"There's really nothing wrong with him, Gilbert," Hungary replied, reaching down and moving the hand that was inching towards her behind back to her waist. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Roderich's furious face. "He's just worried about me."

"Hah!" The Prussian cackled. "Hi! Vorried! Right. He's probably just making sure you are all his for tonight." He scowled at the Austrian man and turned his attention back to Elizabeta. "Damn him!"

"Lower your voice!" Hungary hissed as eyes turned towards them. "And watch your language!"

Gilbert's scowl deepened. "I'll speak hovefer I vant."

Elizabeta sighed. "I'll be fine, Gilbert. It's Roderich after all. What can he do?"

"He can hurt you," Prussia replied, tone serious. "Here." He tapped her chest, just above her heart. "He to it, I'll kill him, ja?"

Hungary sighed. "I can't stop you. Just don't hurt him too much."

"Ja, ja, I von't." Prussia promised. "Just a little bit." He grinned. "He'll never be as awesome as me, ja?"

"Ja." Hungary smiled before Gilbert spun her. The song came to an end. "Thank you for the dance."

"No problem." Gilbert winked and said, "Dat vas your vedding present, by da vey. A dance vith the awesome me!"

Elizabeta rolled her eyes. "Goodnight, Gilbert." Then she returned to her husband, who was glowering at the retreating Prussian. He looked relieved when Hungary rejoined in.

"Was he inappropriate?" Roderich asked.

"He was Gilbert," Hungary responded.

"I see." Austria shot a nasty look towards the albino as he laughed loudly at something Francis had said. He stood saying, "I am going for a walk. Join me?"

Elizabeta nodded hesitantly and stood as well. Austria offered her his arm which she took and the two departed the ballroom and began to walk the halls of his great mansion. They passed England, who was glowering with a slightly uneven gaze, at his former colony who was currently chatting with great enthusiasm to Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert.

After a time they came across a now properly dressed Poland who was sharing heated kissed with Lithuania in an obscure corner. Roderich did nothing to cover his obvious distaste but the couple did not seem to notice him and Elizabeta passing. Hungary smiled at the two countries but said nothing.

"Obviously you condone such behavior," Austria said stiffly.

"It's love," Elizabeta said with a shrug. "It should be allowed to blossom in whatever form it chooses to take. If that's within two men, then that's the way it chooses to form. There's nothing you can do to stop it."

Roderich sighed and shook his head. "You are going to forever confuse me, Elizabeta."

Hungary smiled slightly. "Well, you're going to have a long time to get to know me."

The man beside her nodded, looking slightly troubled. "Yes . . . I suppose I will." They walked in silence for another thirty minutes or so before returning to the ballroom. It was getting late and the crowd was beginning to thin. Berwald and Tino had left, as had England who had taken his younger brother with him. America was still sitting with Francis, Antonio, and Gilbert; all four of them were quite visibly drunk. Ludwig seemed to be trying to convince his brother that it was time for them to leave.

All the noblemen and woman were beginning to leave as well, wishing the two nations well before passing them to climb into carriages and be whisked away into the night. Toris and Feliks had long since vanished and Austria did not care to know where they had vanished to. Finally, the stragglers were removed and those of the staff who were not cleaning retreated to their quarters, leaving Elizabeta and Roderich very much alone in the great ballroom.

"I suppose it is time for us to sleep as well, is it not?" Austria asked her.

His new wife nodded hesitantly. "Yes, I . . . suppose so."

He looked at her with concern. "Elizabeta?"

Hungary shook her head. "It's nothing. Let's just get this over with." She started towards the exit but was held back by Austria's surprisingly firm grip on her wrist. She turned back to him.

"Let's get _what _over with?" He asked, tone strange. Dangerous? Upset? She wasn't sure, but she hadn't heard that tone before from him.

Elizabeta attempted to shrug it off. "Tonight. . . and us."

Austria's eyes suddenly took on understand. "Ah . . . yes. Tonight. Am I to understand that you do not wish to partake in what is customary upon a couple's wedding night?"

The female nation couldn't tell if he was relieved, disappointed, upset. She decided to tell the truth. "It makes me uncomfortable to think . . . we barely know each other—we're usually enemies so—" She was silenced by Roderich's fingers on her lips.

"There is no need to explain," he said. "I happen to feel the same way. I took measures to ensure that if we both agreed to not sleep together tonight, or any night during our marriage, you would have a place to sleep." He motioned for her to follow him.

The aristocrat led her to the mansion's second floor where the bedrooms were located. He stopped at the door to one and gestured for her to open it. When she did, Elizabeta couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips. It was a relatively large room, with large bay windows facing the mountains—Hungary didn't need to look to know they faced her homeland.

Austria had obviously ordered his servants to remove things from her cottage and move them here. Her sword from the Teutonic days was displayed proudly above the mantle of the fireplace and one of the multi-colored quilts that her people made her was what covered the bedspread. Various other things from her home dotted the room, but it was the quilt that touched her the most.

"I had this room prepared this morning," Roderich told her when she turned to him, emerald eyes expressing the thanks she could not. "I don't believe it was fair for you to leave your entire home behind. Many of your garments are in your closet, along with several dresses that are a gift from my—our boss. I hope you like it."

"Thank you. . ." Hungary finally whispered. "Thank you, Austria, thank you."

"It's Roderich," he corrected her gently, "and you are welcome." He smiled slightly before saying, "I will let you go to sleep as I am sure it has been a trying day for you. Wake whenever you feel like tomorrow. Goodnight, Elizabeta."

"Goodnight . . ." Roderich nodded before leaving the room, closing the door behind him with the faintest click.

Hungary looked around the room once again, taking in the kindness Roderich had shown her. He didn't have to do this much, but he did. The nation knew her friends' remarks would not be needed; she was certain she was in good hands. Quickly, Hungary removed the jewelry she wore and shucked herself from the dress and corset. She kicked off the heels that made her feet ache and dug her toes into the plush carpet. She undid her hair and stood, quite naked, in the center of the room before going to the closet and opening it.

She found one of her favorite nightdresses, one of the ones she had made herself, and slipped the light fabric over her head and shoulders. She smiled as the fabric pooled at her feet then collapsed into the downy cloud that was her new bed. Elizabeta barely had time to crawl under her quilt before she was fast asleep.

* * *

It is not the sun across her face nor the chirping of birds that wakes Elizabeta the next morning; it is the sound of a piano. Clear notes reverberate through the house, each chosen to be played with an experienced hand. Hungary slips from her bed and pads bare foot down the mansion hallway to where the sound comes from; her new husband's music room.

She stands in the doorway, clad only in her nightdress, and listens to him play as she did when she was a maid. Each note is played with confidence; there is no hesitation. When gloved fingers finally come to rest, he turns on the piano bench and sees her. Amethyst eyes widen for the briefest of seconds before returning to normal.

"Good morning, Elizabeta . . . I apologize if I woke you."

Hungary shakes her head. It's not a lie, not really. She was getting up anyway. "No . . ." She joins him at the piano and curiosity drives her to speak. "What were you playing?"

Without missing a beat he replies, "Chopin's Prelude for piano Number 15 in D flat major."

It goes over her head but she smiles and nods like she understands. "It was beautiful."

"Yes. . ." He turns back to the keys and skimmed his fingers over the pearly white surface. "Would you like me to play another?"

Hungary nods. "Please." She sees his lips quirk up in a small smile.

"Very well. Feel free to join me on the bench." He gestures at the piano bench and Elizabeta hesitantly takes a seat beside her new husband. She watches him as he fingers the keys, seeming to mull something over.

"What are you doing to play?" she asks.

Roderich seemed to come to a decision. He smirks a little bit (Hungary has to push down the swooning woman inside of her) and he says, "You'll recognize it . . . I'm certain." And with that his fingers meet the keys and he began to play.

It didn't take long for Elizabeta to recognize the song he played. It was one of hers. She sat, enchanted, as his fingers moved swiftly over the slick piano keys, striking each with concentrated precision. The rise and fall of the music reminded her of the emotions she'd been dealing with in the weeks previous, going from happy to sad and everything in between.

When he was done, Roderich turned to her. "Recognize it?"

She nods, suddenly tearful. "_Magyar rapszódiák_."

"Ja. In German it's pronounced _Ungarische Rhapsodien._" Austria looks at his piano. "I performed Number Ten. . ."

Hungary nods.

"May I ask if I played it correctly?"

Elizabeta chuckles slightly, a little watery from her tears. "You played it perfectly. It was beautiful."

Austria smirks again, just a little bit. "Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it." He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out an embroidered handkerchief. He dabs at the tears welling up in her eyes. "Crying doesn't suit you."

Which of course makes her sob. She feels his arms around her, pulling her close, and she buries her face in his jabot. It's a rather awkward embrace as Austria isn't the hugging type, but it gets the point across.

"_I'm sorry_," he whispers, speaking not in German, but in Hungarian. "_There's nothing much I can do, but I can try to make you as happy as I can. I know you didn't want this."_

Hungary sniffles. "_Thank you."_

He brushes it off and one of his glove hands goes to stroke her hair. _"I never chose a spot for our honeymoon, you know."_ Still in perfect Hungarian. When she pulls back to look at him he says, _"I thought you would like to choose."_

"_Really?"_ He nods. _"Wherever I want?"_

"_Within reason,"_ he allows.

She sits back on the bench and thinks. It's obvious to her where she wants to go. She wants go home. But will Austria allow it?

"_My homeland,"_ she tells him, in a tone that dares him to challenge her decision. _"I want to go to my homeland."_

He doesn't seem surprised. "_I thought as much. Very well, we will depart tomorrow." _She hugs him tight. After she releases him he says, _"But I have a condition."_

She stares at him. _"What condition?"_

"After you show me around your country, I get to show you around mine." He's back to speaking in Austrian-German again.

Hungary nods; it's only fair. "Alright."

He smiles. "Wonderful. . . now I would advise you to go dress. It's not proper for a woman to roam in her nightdress."

Elizabeta giggles. "Since when have I ever been proper?"

Roderich decides it best not to answer. "For my sake, please get dressed." His wife nods and departs the piano bench. Austria turns his attention back to the keys and he swears he hears her whisper "Thank you" before closing the music room doors behind her.

* * *

**Warning! History Content!**

1. Camera's were around back then. Just trust me on this one, I don't feel like explaining.

2. Hungary–Poland relations are the foreign relations between Hungary and Poland. Relations between the two states date back to the Middle Ages, with the two peoples enjoying a traditional close friendship.

3. This would have happened 2 years after the American Civil War. America is still slighty skitzo from that episode in his countries history. France is helping him forget by getting him drunk off his ass (do not question my logic here.)

4. Homosexuality was definitely not approved off in the 1800's. The first attempts to classify homosexuality as a disease were made by the fledgling European sexologist movement in the late 19th century. In 1886 (19 years after the forging of Austria-Hungary), noted sexologist Richard von Krafft-Ebing listed homosexuality along with 200 other case studies of deviant sexual practices in his definitive work, _Psychopathia Sexualis_. Krafft-Ebing proposed that homosexuality was caused by either "congenital [during birth] inversion" or an "acquired inversion". In the last two decades of the 19th century, a different view began to predominate in medical and psychiatric circles, judging such behavior as indicative of a type of person with a defined and relatively stable sexual orientation. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, pathological models of homosexuality were standard. Therefore, Austria is perfectly allowed to be disgusted.

Ironically, The first known appearance of _homosexual_ in print is found in an 1869 German pamphlet by the Austrian-born novelist Karl-Maria Kertbeny, published anonymously, arguing against a Prussian anti-sodomy law.

5. And references to Hungary's Teutonic Knight days. If you don't know what that is, look it up. It's from when she still thought she was a guy, if that's any help.

* * *

**Translations:**

_Magyar rapszódiák_ (Hungarian)/ _Ungarische Rhapsodien (_german)– Hungarian Rhapsody

_Ja _(German) - yes

_Hungarian Rhapsody No.10 _performed by Arthur Rubenstein

* * *

**A/N: **Goddamn wedding. Finally done. Yes. I do have to admit I love writing Poland. He's fun. :3 So, coming up next, little moments chapter! yay! Just have a couple of those to write! Some of my cosplay friends will recognize a couple of them (coughMarcough). Then after that is the all important divorce chapter, which will probably be short. D: Oh well.

Thanks to all the people who've been reviewing and alerting and faving! Makes my day!

~Toasty


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: **Shades of Love

**Fandom:** Hetalia: Axis Powers

**Characters: **Hungary Héderváry (Hungary), Roderich Edelstein (Austria), cameo by the Italy brothers (Feliciano and Lovino Vargas), mentions Russia (Ivan) and Serbia

**Warnings for Chapter 4:** Not beta'd. Use of human names. Adult situations and suggestive themes. Mentions of war and injuries. Changing POV. Five-shot.

**A/N: **Chapter 4. The "little moments". Didn't get as many as I wanted, but I got enough. Hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 4 (of Five)**

The first time they sleep together is during a thunderstorm. The flashing light and thunderous roar keep Austria awake. He stares at the ceiling, listening to the melody that the cracking lightning, booming thunder, and tap-tap-tap of the rain outside his window. He starts composing a song in his head; earsplitting high notes interrupted by long, booming full notes and accompanied by the constant playing of four or five notes, over and over and over—

He's jerked out of his composing by the door to him room opening. He sits up, slightly weary of attack, only to find his wife. She looks different then he's seen her before. Her blonde hair is wild and her green eyes share that same attribute.

"Elizabeta?" he asks hesitantly. She nods. "What are you—" Roderich is interrupted by a crash of thunder and he watches Hungary physically jump, her eyes widening. And he understands.

Wordlessly, he pats the duvet and she slides into bed next to him. It startles him when she curls up next to him and rests her head on his chest. Even though they are married, they have a strictly platonic relationship that doesn't go beyond sitting next to each other on the piano bench. While Austria wishes it was more, he isn't the type of man to impose on a woman.

The nobleman wraps a comforting arm around his wife. He ends up running his slender fingers through her locks, singing soft song lyrics as he calms her. His unoccupied hand beats a tempo on the duvet, keeping time as he composes a storm on an imaginary piano.

.

.

.

Austria doesn't realize he's fallen asleep until the melodic sounds of morning wake him. He opens violet eyes and sees that Hungary has fallen asleep with her head on his chest, an arm wrapped possessively around his waist. Roderich finds himself smiling at the sight and he strokes her hair absently.

She stirs and sleep-blurred emeralds crack open. She looks at him, he looks at her. "Good morning, Elizabeta," he says to her.

"'Mornin'," she managed, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. She yawns and looks around. "Where—"

"My bedroom," he replies and before she can get the wrong idea he tells her, "there was a thunderstorm last night. You came here for comfort."

"Oh. . ." She's blushing, faintly. "I hope I didn't bother you."

"Not at all." He shakes his head. "I was awake anyway. I composed a song. Would you like to hear it?"

"Yes, please!" Hungary is always eager to listen to her husband play. Austria slips from the bed, pulls his jacket over his sleep shirt and pants so he's at least _some_ type of decent and the couple head to his music room.

He sits at the piano bench and she joins him. He removes the cover from the pearly keys and runs a finger down them. His long fingers splay over the keys as he remembers what he composed the previous night. He brings his fingers upon the key and begins to play.

It starts soft, the pitter patter of notes ring as rain does against paned glass. There is the faintest grumble as the music grew darker until the rumbling was a snarl. A strike of high notes, then a crash of low. The pounding of rain is a constant, interrupted every few seconds by the searing of lighting and the crash of thunder. They're in the eye of the storm and Austria's the one forming the clouds. He plays with such intensity it takes Elizabeta's breath away.

It lasts a good five minutes, this accumulation of sounds that recreates the thing she so fears. It's never the same, ever changing just as the real thing. The notes being to slowly, slowly wind down; the thunder retreats as the rain lessens. Finally, it's gone and is replaced with the trill of a bird and then silence.

Roderich takes his fingers from the keys and allows himself a small smile of self-satisfaction. It didn't sound that bad. It would need tuning, sure, but he was content with the song as it was; a thunderstorm is never polished. It's rough and erratic and ever changing.

"Is that what you hear?" Elizabeta breathes, diverting his attention from piano keys to her face.

The pianist dips his head. "The whole world can be recreated in music. I listen for the sounds it makes and I can easily figure which notes will make the same melody. For, instance, your voice—" Happy notes spin from the instrument, forming beautiful strings of music as they were played "—sounds like so. . . America's voice—" loud, cheerful notes "—Francis'—" Smooth tones "—that Swede—" Choppy, short, gruff sounds "—I could go on."

"That's amazing," Hungary whispers. "It's like the world is speaking."

"In a way," her husband agrees.

She's quiet and then she says, "I don't think I'll be quiet so scared during the next thunderstorm . . . I'll just remind myself it's the world talking!"

Roderich laughs quietly. "If not, you are always welcome to stay with me." Her green eyes widen and she blushes. Then she hits his arm lightly and smiles.

"I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Elizabeta long ago decided that kissing her husband was one of the best things she'd ever experienced. Each time their lips meet she's left breathless and wanting more. He always tastes of the same two things: coffee and cake. Sometimes there's a dash of something else; caramel, chocolate, hazelnut, the sweet tinge of fruit. But always there is the bitterness of his coffee and the sweetness of his cake.

He's gentle in the way he slants her mouth over hers and never takes it too far. He's a gentleman in every way. Sure they argue, as every married couple must, but they always reconcile the same way. A gentle hand caresses her cheek, pushes her hair back, a murmured apology and he kisses her. It is never hard to forgive him.

-/-

Elizabeta is surprised to wake up and not find her husband beside her. He usually stays until she awakens, kisses her good morning, then dresses and goes off to do paperwork or play the piano or what not. Austria is if nothing a creature of habit; it's extremely out of character for him to leave without waking her first.

Curious, and maybe even a tad bit worried, Hungary removes herself from bed, slips a dressing gown over her night dress, and traverses the mansion halls for her husband after acquiring slippers. She inquires with the maids and is surprised when they respond by telling her that Mister Edelstein is in the kitchen, ma'am. She makes her way to the kitchen and the sight she finds make her smile.

Roderich is leaning on the counter, sans jacket and jabot, dress shirt sleeves rolled up past his elbows, stirring a bowl which he holds in his arms. He's got something smudged on his cheek and his glasses are a little bit dusty from what looks like flour. It's endearing, really.

"What are you making, darling?" Hungary asks, startling her husband and causing him to jump a bit. "Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"It's quite alright, my love," he replies, setting the bowl down and crossing the room to give her a kiss. "I apologize for leaving before you woke, but I had the craving for cake."

Elizabeta giggled. "You _always_ have a craving for cake."

Austria allows this notion. "True, but I craved something more than the cook's cake today. _Gugelhupf_,(1) if you can believe it."

"Ooh, one of ours," his wife said happily. "Not just one of your Austrian concoctions."

Roderich looked affronted. "I'll have you know—"

"I'm kidding," Hungary told him, eyes rolled. "Besides, I have a better idea."

An eyebrow was raised. "Really now?"

"Yes." Elizabeta backed her husband against the wall and said seductively, "Why don't we make cookies instead, just skip the baking?"

Roerich took a second to process what she had said, then smirked. "If it's cookies you want, it's cookies you'll get."

"It's cookies I want," Hungary replied, then pulled her husband into a very passionate kiss.

* * *

"Elizabeta, you know full and well that I do not enjoy outside," Roderich said rather gruffly. His wife's response was to beam and squeeze his hand.

"I know you don't," she replied, "but I do."

Austria sighed, raked his fingers through his chocolate hair and decided it was better to let his wife do what she wanted, this time. It was easier for both parties. He had to admit, it was pretty. The setting sun reflected over the water, turning the surface into a canvas for oranges, reds, and yellows to be mixed upon.

"So beautiful," Hungary breathed, stopping to admire the lake. Her husband gently disentangled their intertwined fingers, instead choosing to rest his gloved hand on her waist. Elizabeta sighed contently and rested her head on his shoulder. In turn, he rested his head on hers.

"Happy birthday, my love," Austria murmured into her ear after a time of watching the sun set over the water. Hungary turned her head and captured her husband's lips in a soft kiss.

"No, happy anniversary."

Roderich hums in agreement. Finally, after the sun has finally left, the two return to their waiting carriage, arm in arm.

* * *

He runs a finger down her leg; his surprisingly cool hand raises goosebumps on her flushed flesh. A well placed finger elicits a repressed moan and lips lock together in fiery passion.

His fingers drift through her tresses as he whispers throatily, "_Ich liebe dich_."

The foreign words are beautiful to her ears and she replies quietly in her own tongue. "_Én is szeretlek édesem_."

Their lips meet again and skin moves against skin, limbs tangled together though still allowed movement that brings both increased fervor and relief.

Later, when their moans have died and the deed has been done, they lay together underneath silk bedclothes. His nose nuzzled in her neck and his arm is draped around her bare hips. They share their warmth and revealing in the sweet devotion they feel.

* * *

For her birthday each year, he writes her a song. Every song is completely different, with a different melody and a different tune. Each year is something different, something lovely, something _amazing_. He doesn't play just the piano, she learns. She also can compose on the violin and flute. And he does, though not as often. And each song is like a person in the way it forms and grows and then slowly ages and dies.

With his music he makes her laugh. And cry. Grow angry and grow ecstatic. He's a musician, and he's performing for her on her birthday. Elizabeta couldn't be happier.

* * *

It's when she pulls him away from his work that Roderich believes he loves his wife the most. It's when she sits beside him as he plays the piano, her head resting on his shoulder as his fingers drift over the keys and spin beautiful melodies. It's when she runs her hands through his silken hair and twirls Mariazell around her finger and touches the mole under his lips that elicit such a passionate response from him. It's when she's got him up against the wall, clothes scattered across the floor and her chest against his, kissing him for all she's worth. It's when she's beating Prussia with a frying pan, malicious intent evident in her emerald orbs. That's when he loves her.

Who was Austria kidding, really? He'd been smitten with her since the day he set eyes on her.

* * *

Lady Elizabeta Héderváry Edelstein let herself into the study late into the night, closing the door as to not disturb her husband. She found him slumped over his papers, glasses crooked on his nose and quill still in hand. Elizabeta carefully set the cup of tea, which she had procured from one of the servant girls, on the desk. She slipped the quill from his hand and capped the inkwell before it was spilt and made a mess. She whipped the tip of the fine eagle-feather quill before setting it in a container with others like it.

Hungary studied her husband with a small smile on her lips. He had removed his navy jacket and had rolled the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt up to his elbows. Ink stained the tips of his slender digits, marring the otherwise porcelain-colored skin.

She didn't have the heart to wake him up. Ever since Archduke Ferdinand had been assassinated and the combined Austro-Hungarian Empire had declared war on Serbia, her husband had been getting little sleep. Both countries were feeling the strains of war, but it seemed that Roderich was taking it harder than she.

Carefully, as not to wake him, Elizabeta slipped the glasses off Austria's face and placed them gently on the desk beside him. She ran a hand through chocolate silk and brushed her fingers gently across his haggard face. Her husband subconsciously leaned into her touch; they hadn't been able to see each other much anymore, with the war going on. Times like this were special.

Hungary lays her husband's navy jacket across his shoulders to guard him from the chill his study usually took on late into the Austrian nights. Then she pressed a ghost of a kiss to his crown and tiptoed from the room, the cup of tea still resting delicately on the desk.

* * *

Eventually, Elizabeta and Roderich were called to the front lines. Both were already drawn and tired—they'd lost so many people. So many soldiers to the terrible wrath that was Ivan and his great army. So many soldiers to the great force that was Serbia's men. They had died for them, for their nation, for their country. The couple tried not to dwell on the fact for very long. But it was always there.

They'd lost count of the bruises and wounds they sustained from the many battles. They can do little more at night then fall asleep in each other's arms, utterly spent from the day's exertions.

When they fought the Italy brothers, Austria could see the toll it took on her. Elizabeta had practically Feliciano. When the brothers are finally beaten, after three and a half years of fighting, she sobs into his cravat for almost an hour. There's nothing Austria can do but hold her and hope that the insanity that is the war will end soon.

On November third of the year nineteen-eighteen his wish comes true. Armistice is signed in Padau. Both nations are there on formality and the first thing Hungary does after the signing is sweep the Northern Italy brother into a motherly embrace. Feliciano seems generally surprised at the affection but returns the hug whole-heartedly. The Southern half looked on with a scowl, his arms crossed over his chest.

Roderich sighs as he leans against the wall, exhausted. He could already feel the wounds beginning to heal.

* * *

**Warning! History Content!**

**-On June 28, 1914,** Franz Ferdinand visited the Bosnian capital, Sarajevo, where Bosnian Serb militants of the nationalist group Mlada Bosna ambushed Franz Ferdinand's convoy and assassinated him. the leaders of Austria-Hungary, backed by its ally Germany, decided to confront Serbia militarily before it could incite a revolt. Using the assassination as an excuse, they presented a list of ten demands, expecting Serbia would never accept. When Serbia accepted nine of the ten demands but only partially accepted the remaining one, Austria-Hungary declared war. Over the course of July and August 1914, these events caused the start of World War I, as Russia mobilized in support of Serbia, setting off a series of counter mobilizations.

**-At the start of the war, **the army was divided in two; the smaller part attacked Serbia while the larger part fought against the formidable Russian army. The 1914 invasion of Serbia was a disaster. By the end of the year, the Austro-Hungarian Army had taken no territory and had lost 227,000 men out of a total force of 450,000 men. On the Eastern front, things started out equally poorly. The Austro-Hungarian Army was defeated by Russia at the Battle of Lemberg and the mighty fort-city of Przemyśl was besieged and fell in March 1915.

**-In May 1915, **Italy joined the Triple Entente and attacked Austria-Hungary. The bloody but indecisive fighting on the Italian Front would last for the next three and a half years. It was only on this front that the Austrians proved effective in war, managing to hold back the numerically superior Italian armies in the Alps and at the Isonzo river.

**-By 1918,** the economic situation had deteriorated (strikes in factories were organized by leftist and pacifist movements), and uprisings in the army had become commonplace. Austria-Hungary signed general armistice in Padua, N. Italy on 3 November 1918.

* * *

**Translations/Notes:**

**(1): **_Gugelhupf _(other names include kugelhupf, kuglof, kugluh, bábovka, babka, куглоф) is a traditional Austro-Hungarian coffee party cake. They consists of a soft yeast dough which contains raisins, almonds and Kirschwasser cherry brandy. Some also contain candied fruits and nuts. Some regional varieties are also filled, often with a layer of sweetened ground poppy seeds. It is usually eaten with coffee.

_"Ich liebe dich."_ – German – I love you

_"Én is szeretlek édesem"_ – Hungarian – I love you, too, sweetheart

* * *

**A/N: **I would just like to note my disdain with my History teacher. He never mentioned key important things…. Such as Austria-Hungary's side of the war. He never mentioned jack about all that happened. It was France this and trenches that whole unit on WWI. World History means ALL of Europe, not just the part everyone knows about. Goddamit, his ass is mine when I see him next. ((grumpy grumble/snarl))

I'm pretty sure that as this goes on it's getting rather out of character. Hey. Marriage and War do that to you. Creative license. I can has.

Only the divorce left! I'll start that tomorrow!

~Toasty


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: **Shades of Love

**Fandom:** Hetalia: Axis Powers

**Characters: **Hungary Héderváry (Hungary), Roderich Edelstein (Austria), Arthur Kirkland (Great Britain/England), brief cameo of Alfred F. Jones (The United States of America)

**Warnings for Chapter 5:** Not beta'd. Use of human names. Adult situations and sensitive subject matter. Mentions of war, injuries, Hitler and the Holocaust. Changing POV. Five-shot.

**A/N: **Chapter 5. Divorce and Epilogue. So this chapter was really hard to write... Not because of the history of it, just because... It's a really depressing subject for me.;;

My events/dates are slightly erratic but I claim wibbly-wobbly timey wimey status and creative license. Historical information at the bottom of the chapter as always. I hope you like it and aren't TOO depressed by it!

* * *

**Chapter Five (of Five)**

Their empire was crumbling. It was no longer the great nation it had been before the war. The king had freed Poland, along with South Slav, Czech, and Ukraine and other areas were pushing for independence. Austria's lands had suddenly dwindled and his body wasn't taking it well. Already weakened by the war and falling economy, the suddenly loss left the male nation bedridden for several weeks.

Elizabeta nursed him even while dealing with her own country's difficulties. He would often wake half-blind with fever to see her sitting beside him, a book on her lap and her hand in his. Or he would feel the coolness off a cloth being placed on his feverish brow and he knew that she was taking care of him. And then one day he woke and she was crying.

"Eliza…?" he murmured, reaching out to stroke her damp cheek with his thumb. "What is wrong, my dear?"

"Th-They—" She was sobbing now. "T-They're going to be separating us."

Austria's breath hitched. "What?" His head spun from the news. "Who?"

"The Allies," Elizabeta choked out, "my bosses. They're making me—divorce—I don't want—I love you—"

The aristocrat struggled to sit up, but once he did he pulled his wife close. She wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his collarbone. Austria ran his hand in calming circles over her as he burrowed his nose into her hair. He took in her scent; the aroma of clean linens and chocolate and the spice she never seems to stop smelling of, tasting of.

"Eliza, it will be alright," he whispered, stroking her hair now. "We'll make it through. Even if they separate us you know that I love you." Inside, however, he was a roiling turmoil of emotion. They were going to be separated. They who had been together for fifty-one years and had shared love and hate and fought through the war together. Austria couldn't quite believe it.

"I love you," Hungary whispered. "I love you so much. I don't want to leave you!"

"I love you, too," Roderich replied, "and I don't want you to leave, either. But what choice do we have? Orders are orders."

Her head snapped up, emeralds blazing. "We can fight it! I won't accept it!"

"And start another war?" Austria snapped. "Elizabeta, I am bedridden and both of our economies our failing. If we start a war, both of us will die!"

"I don't care!" She was standing now, hands clenched at her sides, tears of anger now running down her cheeks.

"Do you want to end up like your Magyar, then?" It was a low blow, and the Austrian knew it. "Do you want your country to vanish, your people to die? I know I do not wish this for you, for me, for anyone."

Elizabeta stared at Austria. "Roderich…"

"I'm sorry, Eliza," the aristocrat said quietly, "but this separation . . . it might be for the best."

Hungary's world came crashing down. "R-Roderich—"

"Go," Austria said, turning his face so he wouldn't see the tears streaming down her cheeks. "Just…. go."

"Fine!" The door to their room—his room slammed and for the first time in a very, very long time, Roderich Edelstein cried.

* * *

"Mister Edelstein, sir? We need you to sign this."

The nation sighed. "What is it?"

"Just some papers signifying your divorce from Miss Elizabeta." Roderich felt his throat closing up a bit as the offending articles were slid in front of him on his desk.

"Alright. I will get these back to you soon."

"Thank you, sir." The man left and Austria was left sitting at his desk, looking at the papers. He skimmed them, didn't read them. He didn't need a reminder that Hungary was no longer his wife, that he could no longer kiss her and make love with her without feeling guilty. He signed the dotted line and set the papers away, not needing or wanting to see them.

.

.

.

Hungary looked around her new home and sighed. Her boss had found her an apartment; nothing too big or fancy, just an apartment. It was nice but there were reminders of_ him_ everywhere. Her nightdress, the jewelry and other gifts he had given her over the years, the quilt that had been used in her room, the polish sword from her childhood . . . and the gold band which hung around her neck as a constant reminder of the fifty-one years they'd shared. Those years hadn't necessarily been the best years, but they were over half a decade of her life that no amount of work could erase.

But it was time to move on. Move on from Austria, move on from their divorce, just move on. It will be painful, but she knows she can do it.

* * *

**Epilogue:**

The next time they saw each other is March of nineteen fourty-four. Elizabeta is imprisoned and Hitler personally assigns Roderich as her guard. The Austrian is certain his former citizen know exactly what he's doing; Hitler knows their history, knows what this will do to their psyches.

It shreds Roderich's heart to see the woman he loves in chains, but there is little he can do. The only contact they have is when he unlocks her cell to give her meals, which don't consist of much.

"I suppose you're happy now," she says one afternoon when he is bringing her the afternoon meal. Her voice is hoarse from lack of use. Roderich starts a bit and looks around. She's in an isolated cell of a room, and he is the only guard on this section of the building, but he fears someone might overhear. His purple eyes look over her—she's pale, thin and looks exhausted. Just like him. The war is taking a toll on their bodies. Her green eyes, once so full of life, look dead.

The Austrian sets the tray containing her food down on the table and replies, "I haven't been truly happy in almost thirty years."

Her eyes widen at his implications. "You—"

"Have not gotten over it," his hissed, violet eyes sharp. "I loved you, Elizaveta. I loved you so much. That kind of love cannot be broken by a simple divorce or change of borders."

"Do you still love me?"

Silence. His eyes showed the pain he was feeling as he tried to come up with a response. "Yes. I do." And then he turned and left her alone in the cell.

.

.

.

Hungary is woken in the middle of the night by the door to her cell opening and closing softly. Instantly the nation is on guard, but there is little she can do before a hand covers her mouth and the unidentified trespasser hisses "sssh!"

She falls silent as a hand fumbles in the darkness and produces a set of keys. The intruder places a finger on her lips, signaling for her silence as he or she removes the padlocks from her chains. The jingling rings are lowered gently to the ground to prevent them from making a deafening crash. Then the intruder takes her hand and leads her out of the cell and into the prison.

The other prisoners are quiet, save for a couple or snores of soft sobs. The person who freed her takes her the way the guards walk and into the bowels of the prison. They stop in front of a door which the unknown person pushed open and gestures for her to go into. She enters hesitantly and her savior closes the door behind them before switching on a light. The trespasser is wearing a long, hooded trenchcoat which the Hungarian has seen some of the guards wear when it rained.

"_Take a uniform and change,"_ the intruder says in harsh German, gesturing at the rows of uniforms hanging on the wall. _"Hurry!"_

Hungary complies instantly to the man, for it is a man who spoke those words. He turns away while she changes, something she is grateful for. When she is done the stranger drapes a coat like his over her shoulders and tells her to pull the hood far over her face. She obeys and the man motions for her to follow him.

They creep silently down desolate back hall ways and finally out into the cold, rainy night of Germany. The duo pass the guard station on the way out, where Elizabeta sees the guard on duty slumped in his seat, neck slashed and dried blood on his uniform. She covers her mouth to quiet the gasp that escapes and the man glances back, eyes glinting.

He spirits her away onto the streets of Berlin to an alley. There is a car idling on the curb which he leads her too. _"Go. Get out of this land. Resist Hilter. There is still a chance for the world."_

"Who are you?" she asks, wondering who her savior is. A moment's hesitation passes between them before the man takes off his hood.

It's Austria. She could have known he'd save her. She takes his hand, whispers his name. He nods and says,

"Go."

"Come with me." It's not a question, it's a command.

He shakes his head. "I cannot. I must stay behind."

"Why?"

"My country is already in the clutches of the Nazi's," the Austrian replies quietly, "but Hungary can still fight. Join the Allies and fight against Hitler. This war has gone on for far too long. Leave here and don't come back."

Tears prick in her eyes and slid down her cheeks. "If you stay here you'll surely die for saving me!"

"There is a German resistance," he tells her quietly. "They have worked with me to stage this. It will look as if it was one of them who saved you, not me. Now go, fly, before they find us!" He hustles her to the car and right before he opens the door for her he whirls her around for a quick, passionate kiss.

"Find me when everything's over," he breathes when they part. Then Elizabeta is hustled into the car and whisked away.

Two days later, Austria is informally convicted of treason and sent to a work camp to die. As he steps from the hell that is the overcrowded boxcar and into the line that will head straight to another, he smirks. It is worth it to see her free.

* * *

After the war is over and Hitler is dead, she searches the directories for him. If he had been killed, she'd know—they'd all know. She gets information from the Allies that he is being treated at a seized hospital. She rushes to Germany and a flash of credentials later she is being shown upstairs into the packed ward. America is in the room, not even a room really just a cubicle made of curtains, with her ex-husband. Alfred sees her, flashes a thumbs up with a great big smile and leaves them alone in a rare show of chivalry.

Roderich is a sight for sore eyes. His beautiful chocolate hair has been shorn off and Elizabeta could see his bones sticking out under his skin. His violet eyes have lost most of their sparkle and his pale skin is made paler by the whiteness of his hospital gown. He's thin and weak and looks likes he could fall apart at the slightest touch, but he's still Roderich.

"Hello," she whispers, standing at the bedside and looking down at him. "I found you."

He chuckles darkly. "So you did . . . so you did."

"I'd hit you, but I'm afraid I'd break something," Hungary tells him sternly. "What were you thinking?"

His violet eyes show his pain. "You needed to be safe. It didn't matter what happened to me."

She sighs. Always the gentleman. "I got caught again . . ."

"I heard," he replied. "Come now, don't give me that look. Word travels through the death camps just as fast as it does out here."

"How can you . . ." Her fingers clenched in a fist and tears pricked in her eyes. "How can you talk about it as if it was nothing? Roderich, millions of people are dead!"

His hand, thin and emaciated, reaches out for her and he takes her fingers in his. "I know, my dear. Believe me, I know." A quiet falls over them and they are content to just be in each others company.

They are joined by Arthur who looks how they all do. Tired, worn, and exhausted. But there is a smile on his features. "Glad to see you're still with us, Edelstein."

Austria's lips twitched. "Good afternoon, Arthur. I am not trying to appear rude, but I would like to inquire as to why you are here?"

Arthur's expression immediately turns grim. "Right. Well, I have been asked to get your account about what happened at Mittelbau-Dora . . . I realize it is a sensitive subject, but we wish to get the details before they become clouded or . . . blocked."

The aristocrat leans back in his bed, looking older than he ever has. His violet eyes shut and he takes a deep, shuddering breath. "What do you wish to hear?"

"All of it, if you are able to tell it."

Roderich sighs. "Very well. I will tell you my story." Elizabeta stands to leave the two but Austria tightens his grip on her fingers. "No. Stay." She realizes he needs her and she sits. His hand in hers, the man begins to tells his story, his voice cracking every once in a while.

When his tale is over, tears are streaming down Hungary's cheeks and even England looks disturbed. "That is how it is in camps all over Europe," Roderich said. "I'm sure you've seen the death camps yourself. The gas chambers, the furnaces, the mass graves. In retrospect, I suppose I got off lucky."

"Don't say that!" Elizabeta's voice is high with mild hysteria. "Don't you ever say that! Don't you dare!"

Arthur looks between them uncomfortably. "I will . . . go collect more information. Thank you, Edelstein, for relating your story. I know it was difficult."

"You're welcome."

He leaves them alone again, disappearing with a flap of curtains. It's an awkward silence that spreads between them now. "Eliza. . ."

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Her eyebrows knit in confusion. "For what?"

"For being the reason I wanted to stay alive." Green eyes widen in shock as her cheeks color with embarrassment. His thumb traces patterns on her hand as he whispers, "I love you."

"I love you, too, you stupid, proper _Austrian_ man! I love you and I would kiss you if I could!"

"Maybe later, my dear." His eyes have regained some sparkle and Hungary knows in the moment that they share a glance that everything is going to be all right. Maybe not for a long, long while, but it's time to begin to move on. Move on from the war, move on from failing economies, move on from the hate . . . Just move on. It will be painful, but she knows they can do it.

The End

* * *

**WARNING! HISTORY CONTENT (and lots of it)!**

**(1)** In 1918, as a political result of German defeat on the Western front in World War I, the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy collapsed. As one of his Fourteen Points, Woodrow Wilson demanded that the nationalities of the empire have "freest opportunity to autonomous development." In response, Karl I agreed to reconvene the Imperial parliament in 1917 and allow for the creation of a confederation with each national group exercising self-governance.

On October 18, Secretary of State Robert Lansing said that the Allies were now committed to the causes of the Czechs, Slovaks and South Slavs. The Lansing note was the death certificate for Austria-Hungary. With defeat in the war imminent after the Italian offensive in the Battle of Vittorio Veneto on October 24, Czech politicians peacefully took over command in Prague on October 28 followed-up in other major cities the next days. On October 29, the Slovenes declared their independence from Austria and joined the State of Slovenes, Croats and Serbs. The Hungarian government terminated the personal union with Austria by October 31, officially dissolving the Austro-Hungarian state.

The new Austrian state was, at least on paper, on shakier ground than Hungary. Unlike Hungary, which had been a nation and a state for over 900 years, what was left of Austria had only been united by loyalty to the Habsburgs. However, after a brief period of upheaval and the Allies' foreclosure of _Anschluss,_ Austria established itself as a federal republic. The Hungarian Democratic Republic was short-lived and was replaced by the communist Hungarian Soviet Republic.

**(2)** In July 1941, the Hungarian government transferred responsibility for 18,000 Jews from Carpato-Ruthenian Hungary to the German armed forces. These Jews, without Hungarian citizenship, were sent to a location near Kamenets-Podolski, where in one of the first acts of mass killing of Jews during World War II.

Worried about Hungary's increasing reliance on Germany, Admiral Horthy forced Bárdossy to resign and replaced him with Miklós Kállay. Kállay continued Bárdossy's policy of supporting Germany against the Red Army while also initiating negotiations with the Western Allies. Aware of Kállay's deceit and fearing that Hungary might conclude a separate peace, in March 1944, Hitler launched Operation Margarethe and ordered Nazi troops to occupy Hungary. Horthy was confined to a castle, in essence, placed under house arrest. Döme Sztójay, an avid supporter of the Nazis, became the new Prime Minister.

After German troops occupied Hungary, mass deportations of Jews to German death camps in occupied Poland began. Infamous SS Colonel Adolf Eichmann went to Hungary to oversee the large-scale deportations. Between 15 May and 9 July, Hungarian authorities deported 437,402 Jews, all but 15,000 of whom were sent to Auschwitz-Birkenau. One in three of all Jews killed at Auschwitz were Hungarian citizens.

**(3)** Mittelbau-Dora was a Nazi Germany forced labour camp that provided workers for the Mittelwerk V-2 rocket factory in the Kohnstein, situated near Nordhausen, Germany. The Camp was liberated in early April of 1945.

* * *

**A/N:** SEMI-DEPRESSING/HAPPY ENDING? I'm a sap, so sue me. It's also my headcanon that Austria was sent to the workcamp _Mittelbau-Dora_. I don't know why it just...is.

So I just want to put a big thank you to everyone who read, faved, alerted and reviewed this! Most notably, I'd liked to thank LePetitPappillon and MarxMaka (I'm not going to try spelling your username on this website so have a dA account name instead) for being awesome and helping me through this thing. I do have other AustriaxHungary stories planned, as well as PrussiaxHungary and PrussiaxHungaryxAustria stories! Don't know when I'll get around to them, as I've got three chapter fics I need to finish first and school is starting next week, but I'll try my best!

If you could leave a final review telling me what you thought of this story, it would be most appreciated!

~Toasty

P.S. I do realize there are probably many mistakes in this fic but I have no beta as of this time (one is in North Carolina w/o internet and the other is in collage and I don't want to bother her). In a week or three I'll reread my story when I am not so familiar with the material and then I will be able to edit it properly. Thanks for understanding!


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